


Wishful Thinking

by ineswrites



Category: It Lives (Visual Novels)
Genre: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Crying, Grief/Mourning, M/M, MC has male pronouns, Masturbation, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-11-27 17:41:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18197321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineswrites/pseuds/ineswrites
Summary: Connor realizes he's been stuck in one place after that night; it's like the time has stopped for him while everybody else moved on with their lives.





	Wishful Thinking

**Author's Note:**

> The rating should probably be either T or M.  
> The title is not a reference to the new book.

Connor doesn't know how long he's been staring at the gravestone when Stacy's voice startles him.

"Hey, Connor!"

He looks up. She's striding towards him with a smile on her face. He doesn't smile back.

"Hey, Stace." His gaze drops to the gravestone. "It's hard to believe it's been three years already, huh?"

He still remembers it all like it was yesterday. The homecoming dance, the creatures... The scars on his side flare up at the memory.

"Are you okay?" Stacy asks.

"Just... remembering it all."

"Connor..." She gives him that pitying look again. He knows what she wants to say. 'You should move on, Connor. Getting stuck in the past won't get you anywhere, Connor. Just look what happened with Noah, Connor.'

That last one lead to a huge fight. Connor realizes he's been stuck in one place after that night--it's like the time has stopped for him while everybody else moved on with their lives--but comparing him to Noah was taking it a step too far.

This time though, Stacy doesn't say anything, and Connor gets lost in his memories again. The deserted hospital. Devon...

_"Kiss goodbye?" Devon's face hovering inches above his._

_"Goodbye? Absolutely not."_

_Devon's lips. His echoing footsteps as he leaves. Connor's fingers tapping the keys on his phone, forming more and more desperate texts. Hours of waiting for a response, wishing..._

That's what it all was, wishful thinking. Didn't do him any good, just like it isn't doing now. _I wish I taped myself up and went there with you. Maybe you'd still be alive. Maybe I'd be dead._

Wishful thinking.

"The gang is meeting up for drinks tonight," Stacy says. "We're gonna drink to Devon. Will you be there?"

Connor shakes his head. He doesn't really spend time with Stacy's friends, or at least only as much as he has to.

"I'm working late."

Her face falls, but she doesn't push him. "Okay." She opens her arms, and he lets her pull him into a hug. "I'll see you later then, okay?"

He nods. She touches the gravestone for a second before turning around to leave. The wind picks up, blowing in Connor's face. He zips up his jacket and, after a moment, follows in Stacy's footsteps.

*

Technically, Connor could choose a different way home, but it'd be longer. Besides, he doesn't want to. The woods always remind him of Devon--but then, what doesn't? He always slows down although there are hardly ever any other cars, so he could speed up and be home in five minutes tops. But there's nothing waiting for him home.

Sometimes he thinks he sees someone standing on the edge of the woods out of the corner of his eye, but when he looks that way, no one's there. He knows he's just seeing things, that his mind is playing tricks on him, but sometimes he lets himself wonder if it could be, somehow, Devon hiding among the trees. That maybe it's some practical joke, and everyone will laugh at him for falling for it. It was a plausible thought a couple days after that fateful night, but now? Now it's just--

Wishful thinking.

Devon's definitely dead. Connor wasn't there to see the body, but Stacy was, and she told him what happened. She didn't see him die, but they found his body with a knife buried in his stomach--Connor shivers when he imagines it, and he's really glad he didn't have to see that; it’s one nightmare less for him--and Noah was gone. It's pretty much obvious what had happened, and the police are searching for Noah to this day. Connor's hands clench on the wheel. That bastard knows how to be invisible. If Connor ever catches a glimpse of him, he will kill him.

He drives past the woods and through Devon's old neighborhood. It's on this road he had seen him for the first time in years... His heart had stopped then, and ever since, it hasn't recovered. Devon was interested in him from the start, too. It was almost like they were meant to be, not that Connor has ever believed in stuff like that. But yeah, it was pretty incredible.

Someone else lives in his house now. Devon's parents couldn't bear to stay in Westchester after what happened. Their son died while they were overseas after all; they must blame themselves even more than Connor does.

Connor's house is empty when he finally returns, and he doesn't bother to turn on the lights. He takes off his jacket and his sneakers and climbs up the stairs. He closes himself in his room and flops down onto the bed. Even though there wasn’t much for him to do in the hardware store, he's still exhausted enough to fall asleep immediately.

A phone alert wakes him up a few hours later. He fishes it out of his pocket and looks at the name on the screen blearily.

**Devon**

He sits up rapidly, gaping at the screen. He blinks a few times, thinking he must be seeing wrong. But the screen still says Devon. With a trembling finger, he opens the message.

**Hey, are you there? It's Devon.**

**I'm in the woods.**

"No, this is a prank..." Connor mutters to himself. He keeps staring at the screen like it's not real, like it's all in his head... And then, two more texts show up.

**I think I'm lost...**

**Please, help me.**

With his hands still shaking, Connor calls Devon's number. He holds his breath as he puts his phone to his ear. The dial tone cuts off suddenly, replaced by panting. Then, he can hear Devon's barely-there voice.

" _Connor..._ "

"Devon?!" Connor's heart pounds louder than Devon's voice is, and he presses the phone even closer. "Oh my God! Is it really you?! Where are you?"

He can make out only single words over static, " _...the clearing...hurry..._ "

He jumps out of bed and runs down the stairs, not bothering to try and be quiet. "I'm on my way!" he yells, running outside in just his socks. "Don't hang up!"

But he's met with silence. He looks at the screen; the call has ended.

"Fuck!"

He runs to the woods without a single break to catch his breath. He leaps over rocks and roots effortlessly and doesn't let any limbs that catch on his clothes and skin slow him down. He only halts at the clearing; he bends down to rest his hands on his knees, gulping lungfuls of air. When he looks up, he sees a figure leaning against a tree, hidden in the shadows.

"Devon?"

The person steps onto the moonlit clearing, and for a second Connor forgets to breathe. It _is_ Devon, unharmed and smiling at him.

"I started to think Mayor Green caught you sneaking out," he says.

Connor blinks in confusion and slowly straightens up. "Caught me--what? Why are you--what?"

Devon takes his hands in his and pulls him closer. "I missed you."

Connor squeezes his hands. They're warm. So Devon can't be dead. Can he?

"I missed you, too," he says, throat dry. Devon's smile widens, and he stands on his tiptoes to reach Connor's lips.

Connor didn't have many occasions to kiss Devon; there was that one time on the parking lot, and then that kiss that wasn't supposed to be goodbye but was. But he spent a lot of time kissing him in his dreams, and this right now is just as perfect but better, because it's real. Devon deepens the kiss, and his hands slip out of Connor's grip and under his t-shirt. Connor gasps against his lips at the unexpected touch, then again when Devon backs him up against the tree and he almost trips. He grabs Devon's hips to catch his balance, then laughs, relieved and lightheaded. He looks Devon in the eyes, barely believing his luck, then kisses him again, more hungrily than he ever has. They only pause so they can take each other's t-shirts off, and Connor takes a moment to admire Devon's lean body before he's all over him again. They've never been so close before.

"Devon..." Connor sighs against his lips, but he doesn't know if he wants to stop him or encourage him. Devon doesn't react, just presses up against him enticingly. Connor can feel his fingers at his belt, he hears the buckle clatter as it's opened, and then Devon's hand dives into his boxers and--

His own moan wakes him up. Connor groans when he opens his eyes and realizes he's still in his room, painfully hard, his damp clothes clinging to his sweaty skin. He bites his lip as he shoves his hand down his pants, holds back his moans as he jerks himself off, and as soon as he's finished, he starts crying.

Just another Tuesday night.

*

Connor sighs as he gets ready for closing, debating getting a couple of drinks before going home. He drove to work, but it's one of those days. He can go on foot and get the car back tomorrow. He works the afternoon shift anyway, so getting up in the morning won't be a problem.

Lost in thought, he looks at his hands and realizes he's holding the pole saw he's just taken down. His boss, Gunther, doesn't want to leave it on display overnight. Connor inspects it gloomily--it's the same one Devon had held...

_"This is awesome!"_

"Connor!"

He jerks and looks up into his boss's impatient face.

"Can I leave you to lock up?"

"Sure, Gunther. I'll just... I'll put it away."

He walks away to the backroom, Gunther's stare piercing the back of his head. He's getting tired of him, Connor knows. It's been three years, and Connor still zones out every few weeks. Those aisles, some of the tools and supplies, even the door and the counter, they all hold memories of Devon. He should've quit a long time ago. If only he had enough energy, enough willpower to look for a new job...

He puts the pole saw away in its box, grabs his jacket on the way out, turns off the lights and locks up. He looks at his car parked nearby and shakes his head. He could really use that drink.

He shoves his hands into his pockets and starts walking, but after about ten minutes, he finds himself leaving Main Street and ambling along the edge of the woods. They're calling to him, have been for years... Once, he mentioned it to Stacy, and she freaked out. She absolutely forbid him going in there, and although Connor didn't appreciate her bossing him around, he knew she was right. It was dangerous, they both knew it all too well. Maybe it was Noah who killed Devon, but the thing--the shadow monster--was real, and anyone trying to mess around in the woods could wake it up.

But now his eyes are drawn to the darkness lurking between the trees. His gaze slides from one to another when suddenly he realizes he's looking at a person and stops in his tracks.

A beanie. Long, curly hair.

Noah.

"Hey!"

Noah jolts. His eyes widen when he sees Connor stalk towards him, and he bolts through the trees. Connor rushes after him.

"You can run all you want, you're not getting away from me!" he yells. "Not this time, Noah!"

But no matter how fast he runs, Noah is always a few steps ahead, just out of reach. Connor only stops when he stumbles out onto the clearing, almost out of breath. The waning crescent of the moon is high on the sky, and he can barely see Noah standing in the middle with his hands raised.

"Wait," he says with a slight tremble in his voice. "Before you do anything... Hear me out."

"I waited _three years_ ," Connor snarls, folding his hands into fists.

Noah takes a couple stumbling steps back. "What's five minutes more, then? Afterward, you can do anything you want to me. I deserve it."

Connor stalks towards him. "What kinda trick is this?"

"No trick. I just promised a friend I'd bring you here." Louder, Noah says, "We're here! You can come out!"

Chills run down Connor's spine and he steps back. Is this a setup? Just what is Noah up to...? He's about to ask when he hears a voice... Faint, but clear, from somewhere around the clearing...

" _Friends?_ "

Connor feels the surrounding atmosphere thicken, and that's when he sees it--a black mass of shadows gathering beside Noah, gaining a human shape. He stands frozen in place, gawking with his mouth hanging open.

"Are you fucking crazy?!" he yells, his voice higher than usual. "What’s your game?! You came back here to finish what you started and kill the rest of us?"

Something akin to hurt crosses Noah's face, but Connor couldn't care less.

"Connor... It's Devon."

"Like hell it is!"

Connor raises his fists to his face. The glowing blue orbs on what he supposes is the shadow creature's face widen.

" _Sparring?_ " Wisps of smoke raise in front of it. It looks like it's just risen its arms. " _Short jabs!_ "

For a long moment, all Connor can hear is his own heartbeat. Finally, with his mouth dry, he asks, "Devon?"

He must be dreaming. Yes, this is a dream... The setup is so familiar; the clearing, the moonlight, Devon...

The creature's eyes squint happily. " _Connor!_ "

"After he died, what happened to Redfield... to _Jane,_ happened to him," Noah speaks up. Connor almost forgot he's still there. "He has a hard time remembering... Who he is, what happened, everything. I'm helping him. A few nights ago he remembered you... He misses you."

Connor keeps staring at the creature--at Devon--still not quite believing this is really happening. And yet, somehow... It makes sense. Devon's eyes widen suddenly, and he backs away.

" _Are you scared?_ "

"He's not malevolent," Noah cuts in before Connor has a chance to respond. "He doesn't want to hurt anyone. _I'm_ unharmed, so that's saying something."

"Well," Connor blurts, and it sounds more harsh than he expected. "Does he _remember_ what you did? That you're the reason he is this way?"

"You know Devon. He never holds a grudge."

Connor notes that doesn't exactly answer his question. But that can wait. Right now, he's far more concerned about the saddened creature before him.

"I'm not scared of you, Devon. I could never be scared of you."

Devon's eyes light up. " _Connor!_ " Suddenly, he flies right at Connor with incredible speed, but freezes just an inch away. " _May I?_ "

Connor nods. A wisp of smoke touches his cheek. It's odd--he can just barely feel it there. He cups Devon's face; it's more solid, but not quite. Like it would crumble if he squeezed too hard.

" _I_ _missed you._ "

"I missed you, too, Devon," Connor whispers.

Devon closes the distance between them. Kissing him is... unlike the dreams. Unlike anything, in fact. His lips are solid, but not. Warm, but not. Connor wraps his arms around him as best he can, and doesn't notice when the thickening wisps of smoke surround him, closing in, until Noah cries out in warning.

"Connor!"

Connor looks up just in time to see him drop his cigarette in shock before the darkness obscures his vision.

And in the darkness, there’s a light.

Connor finds himself standing on something solid though there's no ground below him. He shades his eyes from the light and squints. In the center of the brightness, there's a shape... no, a person. It's been three years since Connor last saw him, but he recognizes him in a heartbeat.

"Devon."

Devon smiles brightly at him and outstretches his hand. Connor seizes it without a second thought and steps into the light.

"Am I dreaming?" he asks.

Devon smirks. "Will you believe me if I say no?"

Connor smiles back. "Maybe?"

He cups Devon's face, his skin warm and soft, and Devon leans into his touch.

"You've been here the whole time, huh. Like this..." Connor muses, wondering what 'this' even means. Devon's not dead, but he's not alive either. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve done something… Should’ve come with you--”

Devon silences him with a serious look. "Look, I'm not strong enough to keep this up for long, so would you rather talk or...?"

Connor doesn't wait for him to finish, just claims his lips with his own, and as Devon slips his hands underneath his clothes, he really, really hopes this time it's not a dream. Devon pushes him and he tumbles onto his back. He sits astride his hips and takes his t-shirt off. He leans in for another kiss, and Connor smiles against his lips.

"Now, you're _really_ something else..." he murmurs and Devon grins.

"What, you're telling me you don't romance shadow monsters on a daily basis?"

Connor brushes Devon's hair behind his ear, but it falls back in front of his face. "You're not a monster, and I... I don't romance anybody."

"Will it be selfish of me to say that I'm really, really glad you don't?"

"Maybe, but I don't care."

They don't talk after that. Devon pushes Connor's jacket off his shoulders, then Connor helps him take his shirt off. He runs his hands down Devon's chest, noting how soft and real his skin feels, unlike in the dreams he can barely remember now. Devon smiles sadly when Connor starts opening his pants and catches his wrist.

"I'm running out of energy," he says, and Connor’s heart skips a beat at the sight of his face contorted in pain. "I have no right to ask you this, but... please, come back."

The surrounding brightness starts fading, and Connor musters up a smile.

"I'll come here so often you'll get sick of me."

Devon chuckles weakly. "Never."

Then the light goes out, Devon's touch disappears, and his weight is gone from Connor's hips. He's alone in the dark.

*

The first thing he sees after opening his eyes is Noah's concerned face hovering over him. He scowls.

"Ugh."

He makes a move to push Noah away, but he's faster. He straightens up and steps back.

"Thank God," he says as Connor picks himself up from the ground. "I never saw him do this before. Are you okay?"

'Okay' is not a good word. He's disappointed, frustrated, concerned... but also incredibly, extremely happy. He looks around, but the shadow version of Devon is nowhere to be seen, and the pressure in the air that preceded his coming is also gone.

"I've been worse," he allows.

Noah sighs and outstretches his wrists. Connor raises his eyebrows at him.

"I'm tired of running," Noah explains. "I know you want to bring me in and I deserve it... Just promise me that if you do this, you're gonna visit him every once in a while or he'll forget everything all over again."

Connor stares at him. He did want that, to serve justice... To beat Noah up or bring him in, whatever... But now...

"Just tell me one thing: did you kill him?"

Noah flinches and drops his gaze. His wrists remain in place. It speaks volumes.

" _Why?_ "

"I didn't mean to," Noah whispers. "It wasn't me... but it was."

"It makes no sense."

"Then just believe me when I say that I never wanted to hurt him. Any of them. I'd never do anything to him if I was in my right mind..." He sighs again. "Just get it over with."

But suddenly it's not an obvious choice to make. Noah is clearly remorseful, and he has been coming here, helping Devon. He helped him and Connor reunite. Maybe what happened in the ruins wasn't as simple as Noah just murdering Devon in cold blood. As Connor watches Noah, he becomes sure it wasn't. He takes in a deep breath.

"Here's the deal," he says. "You can feel sorry for yourself in a jail cell for the rest of your life... or you can do something actually useful."

Noah watches him for a good minute before his words sink in. He drops his wrists. "Like what?" he asks, confused.

"Ending this. I saw Devon; keeping existing like this is incredibly painful for him. And I… I've been sitting on my ass, doing nothing for three years." Connor grits his teeth. "Now I understand it was a waste of time.”

Noah nods slowly, and there's a hint of a smile playing in a corner of his mouth. "Well, then. Where do we start?"


End file.
